


Two or Twelve Too Many

by SirKai



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Competition, Drinking, Drunken Confessions, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-01
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-02-03 01:51:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1726745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SirKai/pseuds/SirKai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brainstorm, intimidated by the one of the Lost Light's newest and brightest crew members, does his best to show up her drinking habits.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two or Twelve Too Many

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dataglitch](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Dataglitch).



> For a fic/art trade with Dataglitch!  
> http://dataglitch.tumblr.com/

Brainstorm trotted inside the bar, very diligently ignoring the sign announcing 'no guns, no swords, _no briefcases_.' The hours had ticked over into the single digits of the early morning (a management of time that the scientist found wildly illogical; it's not as if they were all currently orbiting a sun) and the tables and stools were thinly populated. He stood in the center of the bar, and glanced around at each of its denizens with a wrist resting confidently at his waist. "Hmm," he pondered. Brainstorm studiously rubbed at his chin as he weighed his options. Sitting next to Cyclonus? The scientist's paint job probably wasn't _blue and white_ enough to get away with that. In between Rung and Ratchet? He really wasn't in the mood to be lectured about how "reckless" and "inconsiderate" his work is, on top of the existential questions of _why_ he does it. Across from Ultra Magnus and Megatron? Brainstorm let out another thoughtful "hmm," then peered curiously at them as they pored over a galaxy map projected onto the round bar table. 

Ultra Magnus pointed at a highlighted blip. "We can't dock there; we have a treaty with that species that promises _no_ Cybertronian contact."

"I see." The captain tapped at his chin a few times before conceding. "Very well, we'll plot a different course for refueling."

The glasses hopped as Magnus slammed a fist against the table. "Of course! You never listen to reason! What will it take for you to-"

Megatron interrupted with a blank stare and a barely raised brow.

"I... my apologies Captain." Ultra Magnus manufactured a nervous cough and re-straightened his posture. "I'm just not used to my superior actually _listening_ to me. Thank you... for considering my insight."

"I'm not considering it," the captain corrected. "I'm obeying it. And I want you to address me as _Megatron_." 

Magnus nodded, and took a sip from his glass. "Yes, of course Megatron."

Well, Brainstorm had no intention of making excuses there; the prospect of potentially getting sucked out of existence by getting too close to that anomaly was a little terrifying. Fascinating, but still terrifying.

Ultimately, Brainstorm took his seat at the bar counter next to one of the ship's newest crew members. He peeked at Nautica's half filled glass as he sat down.

She replied with half-lidded optics and a deadpan tone. "Can I help you?" 

“I’ll have whatever _she’s_ having,” Brainstorm said expectantly, as if someone had asked.

Swerve perked up from behind the counter with an empty glass in hand. He looked at Nautica's drink, then Brainstorm, then Nautica's drink once more, then Brainstorm's briefcase, then finally back at Brainstorm. "Well, if you insist..."

“Are you sure?" Nautica asked. "Not every bot can handle this stuff, and...” She cocked her brow and gave Brainstorm’s frame a good look over, then returned to her drink. “I’m not so sure you’ve got it in you.”

Brainstorm’s optics narrowed into yellow slits, then glared at the bartender. His voice descended into a low hiss. “I’ll have _two._ ”

_Round I_

After a minute of deliberate canister shuffling and precise mixing, Swerve slid two small glasses towards Brainstorm. Each glass radiated neon orange fluid. "Two Iacon Incinerators for Mr. Something-to-Prove."

“First: I don't have anything to prove, I'm just here to enjoy a drink or ten. And two: _where’s the straw?_ Do you see any lips on this face?” Brainstorm pointed at his broad mouth plate.

The small bartender dropped a bright pink curly straw into one of the glasses. "Go to town."

Swerve didn't look surprised when the center part of Brainstorm's mouth plate slid open.

Nautica leaned over the counter, shielding her mouth from her drinking partner while he slurped down the first glass. "Does everyone with those faceplates do that?" the engineer whispered to Swerve.

"I have _no_ idea," he whispered back. 

Brainstorm stewed for a minute after finishing the first glass, then moved the straw to the other drink. His body shuddered like a Vok paint mixer once he finished it. "That wasn't so bad. Kind of feels like my spark casing is starting to erode, but nothing I can't handle. Gimme two more."

_Round II_

"Wow, I can see why you... like this stuff." Brainstorm made a wheezing noise and clutched the edges of the bar's counter. "You do like it right? Cuz I definitely do. That burning it gives to your _entire body?_ Really stupendous. Another."

_Round III_

“You know, I think this is starting to taste better. That, or I’m rapidly losing all _sense_ of taste.” Brainstorm flicked the empty glass towards Swerve. “More.”

_Round V_

“See, I told you Taunica, I’m in the middle of my sixfthenth round and I'm-." The scientist paused, and gulped down something that made a faint clanging noise. "Fiiiiiiine. I'm _fine_. This stuff's _noooooo_ big deal. I've studied the _dead universe_. You seen the stuff that lives there? Haha, _lives_ ,” Brainstorm repeated with a pair of air quotes. “Now _that’s_ scary."

Nautica scooched over one seat away from Brainstorm.

_Round VII_

Brainstorm prodded at his glass. The fluid inside sloshed about to match his slurring vocal pattern. "Hey, tarbender, how am I supposetuh keep up with her if _my_ glass isempty?"

Nautica softened her tone. She couldn't break it to him that she was already on her eleventh round. “Brainstorm, sweetie, that glass is plenty full.”

“Hey! _I’m_ the scientist there! I-I mean… here." Brainstorm looked at his hands with dim, bewildered optics. “Ah hell, I’m the scientist everywhere.” He plucked the glass from the countertop, sucked it dry in a single gulp, and slammed it on the counter. “See, _toldyou_ it wuzempty!”

_Round IX_

“Whew,” Nautica exhaled. She wiped the back of her hand over her mouth and pushed herself away from the counter. “Well, I think that will do it for me. I want to make sure I’ll still be able to _wake up_ in the morning."

Swerve finished wiping down the last of the glasses, and motioned towards Brainstorm. “Don’t forget your friend there. You know, all over the floor.”

“What? He’s not-”

Swerve aimed a disbelieving smirk at her, all but saying ‘really?’

She sighed, scooped the scientist into her arms, and did her best to keep his splayed shoulder-mounted wings out of her face. “You better put my drinks on his tab.”

"Already taken care of," Swerve said with a wink.

Once they were in the halls, Nautica wracked her head to remember where Brainstorm's workshop was. Not his _lab_ , he'd corrected more than once before. Perceptor has a lab, but Brainstorm has a _workshop_.

"Mmm, that engineer," Brainstorm mumbled. "Tellin' me I wouldn'tbeabletohandlethosedrinks... I'mwalkinjus _fiiiine_."

"Yup, you definitely proved _her_ wrong. She'll think twice from now on before judging you."

"Mhm, she, she," Brainstorm mumbled. "That's funtosay. Sheeeee she she..."

"How cute," Nautica sassed.

"Mhm... thassa good observation... sheisquitecute isn'tshe... I oughta comeupwithlike... a scale. Tuhmeasure _cute_. Verrrryyyyy scienfitic. She'd be _ontop_."

Nautica froze mid-step.

"But don't tellher I saysthat..." Brainstorm poked the engineer's shoulder, and continued his slurred rambling in a much lower, threatening tone. "I meanit... gotta figureout someway todothismyself..."

Nautica sighed, and resumed her stroll down the hall. Her lips curved into a meager smile. "I'm sure you'll figure out something."


End file.
